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“Irving Bass is a has-been and a—”

He stopped himself, but Kate knew what he was going to say. “A drunk. It’s okay to say it. My mother didn’t corner the market on alcoholism.”

Noah pushed the manuscript closer. “Anyway, I just wanted to give this back and remind you of what you said when you applied to law school. You promised to keep writing.”

“Writing was always just a dream. Not a goal.”

“You have to stick with it.”

“I did. On top of law school, it practically killed me. No regrets, but—”

“No buts. I loved your take on our own government’s first taste of technology. The census of 1890 really was the dawn of the personal information crisis. I prosecute cybercrimes. I know what I’m talking about.”

She flipped through the pages. The red ink made her smile. “It’s bleeding.”

“I made a few edits. Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

It was the way they used to work together. Kate would write all night, and Noah would edit in the morning as she slept. “Of course you couldn’t,” she said.

“So you’ll promise me you won’t put down the pen?”

Kate tucked the manuscript into her purse. “I promise not to throw it back in the trash. But I can’t dive back into it now. I need to wait till I get past... all of this.”

“Wait?Are you serious? Did Hemingway wait for the end of the war to writeA Farewell toArms?”

“About ten years.”

“Okay, smarty-pants. But did Victor Hugo wait for the end of the French Revolution before writingLes Misérables?”

“The revolution ended before he was born. But I take your point.”

“Yes. Because it’s a good point. Only my examples suck.”

“Irving Bass would shred you,” she said, smiling as she slid out of the booth and rose. “This was really sweet of you. I needed it.”

“No problem. And, hey, if you need an editor—or a friend—give me a call.”

“Thank you. I will.”

Kate headed for the door. Her cellphone rang as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. It was her father. She almost let it go to voicemail, not wanting to spoil the moment with Noah so soon by having to recount her visit to the morgue. But it wasn’t fair to ignore him under these family circumstances. She answered on the fourth ring.

“Hi, Dad. What’s up?”

There was a brief silence, and then he spoke in a very serious tone. “Your mother left a note.”

Kate stopped in her tracks. “What?” she asked, but she knew exactly what he meant.

“Handwritten. Definitely her cursive.”

Kate was almost afraid to ask. “What does it say?”

“I think you should read it for yourself.”

She breathed in and out. “Right. I think so, too.”

Chapter 5

Kate waited at the curb on Maryland Avenue. Her father had called from the back of his limousine and was just around the corner. Three minutes later, the car pulled up. The driver hopped out and opened the rear door for her. Kate slid into the backseat beside her father. As they pulled away, the glass partition rose, separating them from the driver so they could speak in private.

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